


Celebrate The Weekend

by sweetiejelly



Category: Glee
Genre: Community: wishlist_fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-02 21:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1062013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetiejelly/pseuds/sweetiejelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>This could be me, she always thinks, when she reads about misspent youths.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Celebrate The Weekend

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [teaandhoney](http://teaandhoney.livejournal.com/) for [wishlist_fic](http://wishlist-fic.livejournal.com/) 2013 for the prompt: _Quinn dealing with giving up her baby and living in her old home with her Mom now after being semi-independent. Lots of bonding/support from Puck too if possible - Santana and Brittany are always a plus as well._

Her mother is crying in the shower, where the acoustics makes everything sound better. Everything except this. This just sounds louder, as the sobs hiccup wet and indiscreet out from under the door. 

Quinn turns on her heels and rounds back to her room. Her bed's still a mess, inviting in its soft imperfection. Come here, lie down, _relax_. She almost does. But then she remembers that this is the bed where she conceived Beth. Beth who's miles away from here and will never call her mom. The thought makes Quinn feel a little like crying herself. 

She doesn't though. Not today. Oddly enough, hearing her mother's heartbreak makes her stronger. Or maybe just tired of tears. 

Pancakes, she decides. This is a day for pancakes. 

She makes her way down to the kitchen. And as with every other time she passes by the living room couch now, her father's words snap at her, a phantom slap. 

Pancakes with chocolate chips and maple syrup then. 

She goes through the motions, getting the mix and the chips, the water and the mixer, the oil and the pan. In some fantasy parallel universe, she is making hundreds of breakfasts for her daughter. She gets to hear her laugh. She gets to hear her cry. She gets to see the first steps she takes. She gets to ask if Beth would like a smiley face chocolate chip pancake. And she gets to hear the giggly reply. 

When she feels her mother's arms around her, Quinn notices that she's shaking. No tears, just a dry cry. 

"Oh Quinnie, I got it. Why don't you get the syrup and the milk?" Her mom takes the spatula and gives her a weak smile. 

Quinn notes the red rims around her eyes and makes no comment. She turns to the fridge. 

Here is where it all started. Sugar hits her weak spot. Syrup, chocolate, anything that wraps around her stomach brain and tells her _yes, good, more please_. 

She's shed Lucy Caboosey before McKinley, but not so much her cravings nor the feelings of inadequacy. She was feeling like Lucy the day she let Puck follow her home. "C'mon beautiful, what do you say?" That was all it took. Puck's warm brown eyes and the way he said beautiful, like he meant it. 

Quinn pours the milk and steadily thinks not about Beth or the fact that her boobs still ache with heaviness. 

At least Puck thinks she's extra hot. Only, now Quinn doesn't know how much of a win that really is. Still, she thinks she'll call him later, see if he wants to hang out. She'll make it a group thing - text Santana and Brittany - they do come as a pair these days - and Mercedes and hit the mall. 

~~ 

"Are we celebrating you becoming hot again?" Brittany asks apropos of nothing as they pass by the food court and step onto the escalators. 

"Hot _ter_ ," Puck says as he leans along the handrail and tries to look down her shirt from his vantage point. 

Santana crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. "Okay, we're not here to talk about Quinn becoming a total milf. We're here for some hot shoes." 

"I thought we're here for Build-a-Bear." 

Santana looks twice at Brittany with something fond and exasperated. But Mercedes beats her to a reply. "I thought we're here for lunch." She looks wistfully down at the food court, from where the smell of fries and chicken and fresh pretzels waft up like an army of trolls. 

"I thought we're here for clothes." Puck says. 

When they all look at him, he hunched his back. "What? Can't a guy like his leather?" 

"Guys," Quinn stands straighter and swings her ponytail with authority. "We can do all of that. Let's go back to the food court and get some snacks and then we can walk the calories off." 

Mercedes beams. 

"Want to share an ice cream cone?" Brittany links her arm with Santana. 

Santana looks like she's about to protest but then she blinks. "Yeah, okay." 

Quinn wonders if they think they're being subtle, because they're not. And Puck is half leering at them and half frowning as if he's catching on, too. 

He shuffles closer to her once they're down by the ice cream shop. "Wanna share a cone with me?" He nudges her gently and Quinn can almost see him asking this of Beth. 

She shakes her head to clear the image. "Chocolate." 

"Chocolate it is." 

~~ 

Brittany's only a quarter way through her cat-bear creation when Quinn has to leave the store. It's full of children. Girls some of them. 

That bow would look so pretty on Beth, Quinn catches herself thinking. That dress would be perfect for her complexion. And that laugh - will Beth laugh like that? 

She's breathing hard and clutching her side for some phantom baby to hold when Puck finds her. "Are you okay?" 

She just shakes her head. At least she's out of denial. 

"Want to go to Barnes & Noble?" 

" _You_ want to go to Barnes  & Noble?" Quinn can't keep the disbelief out of her voice. 

"No. But it's your favorite store." 

Quinn opens her mouth to ask how he even knows. And why he's becoming more and more the man she can envision as Beth's father _now_. But she doesn't know how to say any of it without sounding harsh or breaking down. So she just nods, all fake confidence, and leads the way. 

She bypasses the children's section and sits by the mysteries. Why? Who? How? When? It's all relevant to her life right now. But mysteries work backwards towards a point and she wants to move forward. 

So she moves on to the how-tos and the self helps. But there isn't really a book on how to not miss your baby and feel like your life's over. 

There are about fifteen. It's depressing. 

She looks around to make sure Puck's not hovering and makes her way to the college prep section with its sample SATs and glossy college guides. Quickly, she flips through the pages at random, testing herself and taming her smile when she gets a problem right. (No one has to know she actually kind of enjoys it.) 

When she spots that kid from school though - Brett something - she moves on to biographies. Biographies are her favorites. They're all about people who have made it in some way somehow somewhere far beyond Lima. This could be me, she always thinks, when she reads about misspent youths. 

"Feeling better?" Puck finds her sitting cross-legged on one of the bucket chairs. He clutches a calendar in one hand and squeezes her shoulder with the other. 

"What's that?" 

"Hot wheels." He shows her the close ups of motorcycles and asphalt, palm trees converging in the distance and neon strumming through rain. 

"No hot babes?" Quinn saw some wall calendars of tanned women in small swimsuits lounging by the pool - totally up Puck's alley. 

"Checked 'em out," Puck shrugs and leans on his other leg. "They're not as hot as you." 

Quinn just looks at him, because even though she's not naive enough to believe him, she still finds the effort sweet. 

Mercedes finds them then. "I had to get out of there before the bears freak me out." She plops next to Quinn and picks at the hem of her shirt. She has a pretty pink gloss on. Quinn recognizes it as part of her gift to Mercedes before she moved out. 

"Is Brittany still working on her cat-bear?" 

"Yes. She says she's making Lord Tubbington a friend." Mercedes shakes her head. "That cat's just going to eat the bear, I'm telling you." 

"Brittany loves her cat. If I could, I'd make Beth a bear too." 

Mercedes leans over and hugs her. After a moment's hesitation, Puck hugs her too from the other side. And Quinn just sits with her arms squished, the biography she was reading squished shut in her hands. 

"That's one threesome I never saw coming." Santana's voice cuts through the peace and the three of them spring apart. 

Behind her, Brittany's carrying her purchase in a box and biting her lips. "You can have my cat-bear, Quinn. It's not really a cat and Lord Tubbington would probably eat her." 

"Told you," Mercedes says under her breath. 

"I'm not going to steal a bear from a cat, Brit. But thank you." She kisses Brittany's cheek and checks out the biography with the wasted youth and the brilliant after. 

~~ 

When Quinn gets home with her book, the house smells like a restaurant. 

"Mom?" 

"In here, honey!" Her mother sounds happy, over-compensating kind of happy. "I thought we should celebrate." 

"What are we celebrating?" Quinn looks over the spread in the kitchen. There's a bit of all of their favorites - eggrolls and coleslaw, pasta and pie. 

"Today, Quinnie. We're celebrating today. And tomorrow." Her mom smiles over her shoulders and continues stirring. 

"We're… celebrating the weekend?" Quinn sets down her book cautiously. If her mother's finally lost it, she wants to be prepared. 

Her mom laughs. "We're celebrating that we've made it to today and that tomorrow will come. I applied for jobs today. Typed up my resume and- well, I feel young again, like there's a world of possibilities." 

"Okay." Quinn's not sure whether to be worried or happy for her mom. This is the most optimistic she's seen her in a long time. 

"I love you, Quinn." Her mother turns suddenly and hugs her tight. Just as quickly, she lets go and kisses her forehead. "Go wash up and come to dinner." 

"Love you too, mom." Quinn's still not sure if her mother's okay, but the enthusiasm is catching. She grabs her book and heads up the stairs. 

It isn't until she's in the restroom washing up that she realizes - she heard nothing when she passed by the couch. With a small laugh, Quinn pulls at her scrunchie and lets down her ponytail. 


End file.
